


Three Uses of the Knife

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 16:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The title and section headings come from a quote I found in David Mamet's "Three Uses of the Knife" (Methuen 1998, p58).  The person quoted is Huddie Ledbetter.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Three Uses of the Knife

**Author's Note:**

> The title and section headings come from a quote I found in David Mamet's "Three Uses of the Knife" (Methuen 1998, p58). The person quoted is Huddie Ledbetter.

1\. Use it to cut bread, so you'll have the strength to work

Putting a fork in your mouth shouldn't be sexy. Nothing Professor Snape does should be sexy. But this doesn't change the fact that on that Wednesday night at dinner I noticed Harry looking at the staff table and so I followed his gaze. Unaware of being watched (or so I thought at the time), Snape was eating green beans. He had one speared on a fork and I watched as he lifted it toward his mouth and placed one end of the bean between his lips and bit. Sitting ramrod straight like he always does, eyes on his plate, he lowered his hand and rested it next to his plate while he chewed the innocent vegetable. No one should be that focussed on a vegetable.

Having taken care of the first half of the bean, he lifted the fork and slipped the tines into his mouth with what was left of the bean. I swallowed. My knife dropped from my hand. My heart fluttered in my chest and for a moment I couldn't watch. His hand. His mouth. My eyes closed of their own accord and when I opened them, he had his knife in his right hand and was firmly carving a piece of white meat from the chicken breast on his plate. The white flesh travelled with the fork and touched his lips before disappearing into his mouth. My breath hitched and Harry turned his gaze toward mine. An inquiring eyebrow and I smiled slightly to say everything was fine. Fine. Looking at my half-finished meal, I was suddenly not hungry.

Leaving the dinner table as soon as I could without attracting attention, I made my way to the Astronomy Tower. The Tower has become my refuge over the last three weeks. Too early for trysting lovers, this time of the day is for me alone. That evening, I sat on the windowsill watching the stars rise and wondering how such a common occurrence could affect me so profoundly. So unexpectedly. I had seen him at school for the last four years, yet this evening I saw him. His hands, his lips, his presence. A wave of desire yes desire washed over me. I had never really considered desire before. I'd thought about Harry. I'd thought about laughing with him, doing our homework together, him smiling for me alone. But this, this... this... was beautiful. Sitting in the astronomy tower surrounded by stars, I just felt him. Felt his presence. His being. Him.

Abruptly I remembered the transfiguration test I had to study for. It felt irrelevant now. But habit took over and I pulled myself away from the glinting stars that had been keeping me company, and made my way back to the common room to collect my books. The staircases had a different idea; I found myself heading away from Gryffindor tower instead of toward it. Turning down a corridor, I paused to get my bearings. It was then that I heard his voice.

"... doesnt bear repeating Mr Potter."

"I'm sorry Professor Snape, I'll be more respectful in future."

"I seriously doubt that Potter if your behaviour last detention was anything to go by, I think that respect is something seriously lacking in your basic make-up."

Then I heard Harry chuckle. Then a murmur from Snape, and another chuckle from   
Harry.

At first it sounded like Snape was telling Harry off for something. But as I became aware of the tone of their voices, I realised that wasn't it. I pulled my attention back to them.

"... most unadvised Professor Snape! [chuckle] I think that I will have to teach you some respect! Handling a student like that! It was bad enough your behaviour at dinner toni..."

As I heard Harry's words being cut off like that, my heart dropped to my stomach and my limbs turned to water. Harry had been watching Snape and Snape had known. Had known. And I had seen and... I turned back toward the cursed stairs and not caring where they took me, found myself heading toward the library. Moving to the reading area, I picked up the first book that came to hand and found a seat. Book open on my lap, I moved my fingers toward my lips and touched them. The lips that Harry had kissed once. By accident. He had kissed my mother and Hermione on the cheek, and couldn't help but kiss me, or it would have looked awkward. Meaning to turn away, I actually turned toward him, and his lips touched mine. And tonight his lips touched Snape's. Snape's lips. Those same lips that I watched this evening were touching Harry's lips that had touched my lips that I touched now. I ran my fingers over Snape's lips and I closed my eyes and I kissed him. Whispers of, flickers of, whispers of skin on skin on...

Parchment rustling, murmuring, sounds of study coming to an end interrupted my... memory. Leaving the book, I made my way successfully back to my dorm. And slept the night through. The only time in the last three weeks that I had done that. Mealtimes have become a nightmare for me I can't bear the thought of anything passing my lips. Food has become a foe, and I fight it with all my might.

I can only watch him surreptitiously; my friends have begun to ask questions. Even Harry has noticed how pale I look and asked me just yesterday if I was all right. Of course I told him I was fine, just fine. Worried about my classes and my marks and my homework, but just fine. His smile cut through me. Once I had wanted that smile all for myself. Now, I imagine he smiles at Snape like that. And that Snape smiles back. And I can only imagine Snape smiling at me. At me.

The Astronomy Tower has become my haunt. I've managed to scare away even the lovers that use it for their own. It's mine. No lovers are allowed there except Snape and me. He visits me there every night. Touching my lips, caressing my hands, murmuring sweetly in his mellifluous voice. Sometimes I can't catch what he says, but his tone says it all. I ask him questions:

Do you know the things that make me cry? That cause me to pace from here to there and back again distressed in mind and body not knowing where to put myself? Do you know what happens to my heart when I hear your voice? How far I would go for you? Do you know what takes my breath away? That I cry when I think of you? Do you know me? See me?

He always knows and he always sees.

2\. Use it to shave, so youll look nice for your lover

I cut my hair. Ron got mad at me and told me I look like a boy. I think I look more grown up.

I woke three mornings ago and realised that I had once again slept the night through. I went down to breakfast for the first time in weeks, and found the strength to eat a little porridge. Harry smiled at me and I felt Snape's warm gaze glance over my skin warming it gently. Breakfast finished, the hall emptied, students left for class, and I ran back to get the textbook I'd left beside my seat. Stopped at the door by invisible hands, I caught the tableau to the side of the room.

Harry was leaning against the wall of the Hall, with Snape standing over him. Their bodies were not touching, but Snape seemed to cover Harry. Just an inch apart, Harry stood enveloped in his presence. Immersed in the dark eyes looking unwaveringly into his. Their voices were a murmur, their gestures minimal, but their conversation was unmistakable. If you knew what to look for.

The total familiarity with each other's presence. The curl of the lip; the raised eyebrow; the hand gesturing toward the hip. The beating of the pulse in the temple. The exposed throat. The gentle rocking back and forth of hips, not touching, but not truly apart. Words spilling from one set of lips to another only a breath away. And finally, a hand stealing to a stray lock of hair across a brow and brushing it back to tuck it behind an ear.

Book forgotten, I fled.

Pausing outside the charms classroom, I took a deep breath. My throat, a friend until now, seemed to close up. I swallowed, but it was dry. And barren. Dizzy, I sat down in an alcove to collect myself. And he steps in after me. I stand and back against the wall, his body surrounding me but not touching. His presence is a balm to my parched body. Murmuring as he always does, I fall into his eyes, and feel the ghost of his breath against my lips. Touching my newly shorn hair, he smiles at me and brushes my fringe aside. Pausing to rest his finger on the pulse at my exposed throat, he brushes his lips against mine. I shudder in response. Warmth flooding my pelvis and rippling through my torso and limbs, I close my eyes and he is gone. Gone.

Stepping into the class, Professor Flitwick smiled at me and gestured me to my seat. I sat. I performed charms. I smiled. I nodded. I felt the dry tracts where evanescent blood dissolved into thin air. Every drop of moisture left my body dry and brittle as a leaf, ready to be blown away at the first slight breeze. My husk has been parading as Ginny for the last three days.

3\. On discovering her with another, you use it to cut out her lying heart

This morning I dreamt he smiled at me. Looked me full in the face and smiled at me.

Potions.

Assisted by the rush of air made by hurrying students, I drift into potions. I wonder if anyone can hear my leaves rustle? I find my partner and begin the work of chopping and dicing and slicing. The whole class is preparing and their knives clatter and knock on the desks setting up a rhythm all their own. My heart begins to stutter in syncopated rhythm.

A knock at the door lends a jarring note to the beat and Harry stands on the threshold. Snape stalks to the door, barking "What is it Potter?"

Harry replies inaudibly, and Snape turns back to the class with a piece of parchment in his hand. Taking a seat without looking at the class, he reads the note and looks up to see Harry still at the door.

"The Headmaster asked me to wait for a reply sir."

"You may tell the Headmaster that this will be acceptable Mr Potter."

"Yes Professor."

"And Potter?"

"Yes Professor?"

"Dont dawdle on your way to your next class, you have been particularly tardy lately and it has been noted."

"Yes Professor."

Harry turns to leave and catches me looking at him. He blushes and gives me a tentative smile. He is gone.

Now I stand at the desk. Knife in hand. Chopping. I can't stand upright any more. My leaves begin to drop and my limbs feel bare and exposed. Gripping the knife I lean forward. Dimly aware of voices floating past me, I wrap my limbs around myself. My breath comes in halting gasps. Arms cradle me as I crumple down. The knife presses into my abdomen, my body folds around it like a lover. I love. I am a lover. Down. I sit on my heels curled around my lover. My breath comes further and further apart. There are arms and voices. Next to me. But they aren't me or mine or him and he isn't mine and I can't bear to breathe if he isn't mine. He is mine. I won't breathe in the lie that says he isn't. I won't breathe. My leaves scatter and I am falling apart here on the floor. More voices, a spell, another spell and he is standing over me. I look up into his eyes and see only focus and determination. There is no answering look of love. But wait; if I close my eyes, I can see it. I can feel his touch. I take him into my body and we are one.

~Fin~

Notes: The title and section headings come from a quote I found in David Mamet's "Three Uses of the Knife" (Methuen 1998, p58). The person quoted is Huddie Ledbetter.

The plot is from two plot bunnies that came up for adoption on lists I belong to.

The first is from lady_stormrider "The rule of 3 for life". You can only survive 3 minutes without air, 3 days without water, and 3 weeks without food. The challenge is to take a character and torture them using one of the rules. I'm not sure if this is the sort of torture she was thinking of, but I hope the fact that I use all 3 makes up for it.

The second is from "dragonsoul_77" who proposed a story that feels and reads like erotica or a sex scene without the sex. There can be kissing and touching, but no sexual touching. I hope this lives up to it.


End file.
